


One Wrong Turn

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe of an Alternate Universe, Angst, Dark, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gangbang, Grief/Mourning, Loki's not in a good place in this one, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Sakaar (Marvel), Tentacles, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, but then neither is anyone else, it's a good question tbh, the name of this au is Remember This Trash Party, this is a very not nice fic, what the hell are you doing you may ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 04:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14969264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: The journey to Sakaar doesn't go as smoothly, and Loki lands alone.But as so often in life, things can always get worse.Canon divergence of theRemember This Cold'verse duringthe hills on fire for miles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So given my detour/collapse into Frostmaster hell over the last several months, and the ongoing saga of the Remember This Cold universe, it was probably inevitable that someone asked if I would combine them and do something with Loki/Grandmaster in a Steve/Loki context. I made some noises waffling about it, then SOMEONE sent me a prompt that made me sit up and go "oh but what if I did that" and...here we are, 7000 words later, and I feel a little like I might be going to hell for this one (like I wasn't already going to hell for like six other reasons having to do with fanfiction alone). 
> 
> But all excuses aside - this was fun. Fair warning that it's also dark as shit. And also 100% an AU of the AU, this is not canon for my alternate universe at all. Just a little detour into a specific might have been. 
> 
> Thanks to [my beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), as always, to my immensely supportive and enabling community, and to [spockandawe](http://spockandawe.tumblr.com) specifically, in this case. I'm on [Tumblr](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com), frequently engaging in more ill-advised endeavors like this one. Enjoy.

Loki didn’t know how it happened.

One moment they were all bound together, hurtling through space, and the next the tether Loki had formed, connecting himself to Thor, the anchor for this whole working - snapped. 

Loki didn’t even have time to scream before they were flung apart. He reached for Steve, but too late, too little. 

Steve was gone. His tether to Thor was broken. 

Loki let the Void take him. 

* * *

Once again, the Void spat him out. Sakaar took him in. 

Well. Sakaar didn’t so much _take him in_ as it _swallowed him whole,_ but the difference, Loki felt, was largely academic. He was still at the ass-end of the universe, and he’d still lost the two people who mattered most in it. 

And Sif. He _did_ grieve Sif, but Thor and Steve were holes torn in the universe, torn in Loki’s soul. If the Norns were so unjust as to snatch their lives instead of his, then Loki - Loki was _done._

He slaughtered six slavers before they managed to get one of their discs on him, and went down screaming. 

He expected death, but apparently, according to the creature who called himself the Grandmaster, he was _too pretty to die._ Loki probably could have fought it. He probably could have provoked him into killing him. But what had fighting ever gotten him? 

His lover was dead. His brother was dead. Asgard was destroyed, his mother probably dead as well, everyone he’d known, and Sif had escaped the conflagration only to perish because of his mistake. 

So Loki smiled, and laughed, and hated Sakaar and everyone on it, especially himself. 

He didn’t intend to fall into bed with the Grandmaster. But he was falling-down drunk and maybe high as well, and the Grandmaster pulled Loki in close and slid his hands down to the small of his back, and then lower. 

“We-ell,” he said. “I _knew_ you’d fit in here, sweetheart. And look at you now.” 

_Get your hands off me,_ a part of Loki wanted to snarl. The last person to touch him like this--

“You know,” the Grandmaster said. “I’ve got a - _thing,_ actually, private sort of affair, very exclusive. And I think...I think you’d love it.” 

“Would I,” Loki said. His head was spinning. 

“Hmm-mm,” the Grandmaster said. “Absolutely. Say you’ll come.” He drew Loki’s hips closer to his, not quite breathing on his mouth. Loki could push him away. He should. He hated himself for not doing it. He didn’t do it because he hated himself for not doing it. 

“How could I refuse?” He said, with a brittle smile. 

He didn’t remember much of the rest of the night. Hands, mouths, tongues, assorted genitalia, the Grandmaster fucking him with merciless tenderness. He woke up feeling foul, ass and throat raw, and spent the next ten minutes vomiting into the toilet, sick at himself. 

_This is what you deserve,_ he thought, looking at himself in the mirror. _Death is too clean. You deserve to dissolve in this corrosive sinkhole of a place._

He bared his teeth at his own reflection. “We’ll see if it chokes on me, first.” 

* * *

Loki knew how to play this game. He could even be good at it. _Was_ good at it. Here, on this planet of waste and debauchery and backstabbing politics, he fit right in, like he was always supposed to end up here. He’d been a fool to ever think he was destined for better things.

If he’d kept his distance from Steve, as he should have all along, then he, at least, might still be alive. 

Thinking of Steve, of Thor, felt like having his heart torn out, so he tried not to. They did not belong here, anyway, not in this pit of filth. He could only hope they were somewhere full of light, and peace. Steve with his beloved mother and his Peggy. Thor with Odin, Sif, the Warriors Three, Frigga. 

(Oh treacherous mind, to think of such things. At least there were ways - so many ways - to forget.)

The Grandmaster liked him - or at least found him entertaining. Loki did not return the feeling, exactly, but even if he could have refused, he wouldn’t have. The Grandmaster was a connoisseur beyond even Loki’s experience, and he was astonishingly adept at taking Loki apart until he was quivering, shaking, utterly mindless; claiming him in every way possible, slamming through every one of Loki’s limits with coaxing words whose gentleness was belied by the power that hummed under his skin, the scalpel sharp precision with which he wielded it. Flaying away pieces of Loki’s very self, peeling back his resistance and leaving him exposed, utterly helpless. 

He enjoyed almost all of it. He hated himself for enjoying it, and the Grandmaster knew that, too.

Thick, slippery limbs wound around his torso, sliding over his skin. He’d been floating for hours, high on whatever the tentacles secreted, but that didn’t keep him from feeling the pressure as one of them pushed into him. Sliding impossibly deep into him until Loki was whimpering for burn of his ass stretching to accommodate it, his legs shaking where he knelt with his arms bound overhead. Every inhale snagged and he could feel himself sweating, his cock aching for something to touch him. 

_This is what you crave,_ murmured a cruel voice in Loki’s mind. _This is what you are._ Loki’s face and stomach burned.

“Don’t be ashamed, sweetheart,” the Grandmaster said, crouching down in front of him. “Just relax into it. We’re having fun, aren’t we? _Fun._ ” He ran his thumb over Loki’s lips. “And don’t forget to smile,” he said. “You’re on camera.”

Loki’s eyes widened, but when he opened his mouth to voice a protest another of the tentacles slid into his mouth and his eyes rolled back for the ecstasy of a fresh dose, his thoughts splintering into mirror-shards he didn’t want to pick up. 

Later, the Grandmaster fucked him while he made Loki watch the recording, projected in hologram form, and provided running commentary in Loki’s ear. Loki stared at himself, transfixed, horrified. 

_What would Steve think if he could see this,_ whispered the thought across his mind, and he shuddered. 

“Harder,” he said. The Grandmaster paused. 

“Are you - are you telling me how to do my job?” He asked.

“No,” Loki said. “I just want - I need - _harder._ ”

The Grandmaster hummed. “Well,” he said. “Since you _asked._ ”

He used Loki until he was screaming, scrabbling at the carpet rubbing against his cheek. Until he couldn’t think of anything but the ache in his ass, the knotted pleasure so acute it became pain, the hatred and desperation and lust all tangled together. 

“You’re doing so _well,_ so _good,_ ” the Grandmaster cooed, and Loki sobbed as his body thrummed to his tune. 

* * *

“You beautiful creature,” the Grandmaster said, sliding a collar around Loki’s throat, clasping it snug. Loki looked at himself in the mirror and wanted to laugh. “Whatever did we do to deserve you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Loki said. In another life, he thought he might have clawed out the Grandmaster’s eyes before letting him put a collar around his throat. But it was just his body. He’d given away every other piece of himself. Why not this? 

The Grandmaster laughed. “You’re hilarious,” he said fondly. “I love it, I really do. Pretty boy like you doesn’t need to be clever, but you’ve...sharp as a tack, aren’t you?” 

_If only I’d been sharper._ Loki laughed too, though his came out sounding brittle. “So I’ve been told.” 

“Not often enough, I think,” the Grandmaster said. “You’ve got that - vibe. Hungry for...love. It’s fantastic, really, I’m...I’m so _happy_ to get to treat you like you deserve.”

_Like I deserve. You have no idea._ “And you do,” Loki purred. “I’m _quite_ grateful.” 

“I just bet you are,” the Grandmaster said, drawing him into a kiss, fingers sliding down to hook into the front of Loki’s pants. “I wish you’d reconsider the leather, though,” he complained. “I mean, it looks _great,_ but...not so easy to take off when you’re, uh, in the mood and running on a tight schedule.” 

Loki considered a moment, then flicked his fingers to remove his clothes. The Grandmaster’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Ooh,” he said. “Where have you been hiding _that_ little trick?” He somehow drew even closer, his smile turning predatory. “What _else_ are you hiding? I think I’d like to find out.” 

A shiver crawled down Loki’s spine. Not really fear. 

What, after all, did he have to fear?


	2. Chapter 2

Loki was fabulously drunk, enhanced with - something, he had no idea what - that made him feel like he was floating. Riding the edge of what was safe, but then, when wasn’t he? Nothing here was _safe._

He glanced round, ignoring the Xandarian talking to him, to look for the Grandmaster. He tried to stay aware of him, generally; he didn’t want to be ambushed. Not that it helped. When the Grandmaster wanted to catch him by surprise, he found a way. 

Just now, however, he seemed otherwise occupied, distracted. Loki might have looked away, but his eyes snagged on a battered looking figure strapped in one of the chairs in which captives came before the Grandmaster. Loki’s stomach heaved into his throat. He swayed, for a moment certain he would vomit. 

Steve looked dazed. Bruised. _Alive._

He did not quite catch the sound that burst out of his throat in time. Several curious eyes swiveled toward him, but Loki could not look away. If he looked away, Steve would disappear. 

And if he got too close…

If he showed that he knew Steve, that Steve mattered to him, he’d be putting him in the Grandmaster’s sights. But he was already there, and if he ended up in the arena - Steve was strong, and a skilled warrior, but he was still _human,_ and Loki had seen a lot of people die on that killing field. 

He couldn’t let Steve walk out on it. 

But he also didn’t dare let the Grandmaster see how much it mattered to Loki. A weakness like that - the man would do anything with it. And if he let Steve see him…

So he hid. He waited, his heart in his throat, and only once Steve had been sent out did he approach the Grandmaster. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your new prize,” he said, hoping the breathlessness in his voice passed for drunkenness.

“Mm, yeah. Terran, did you hear that? Haven’t had one of _those_ around here in a long while.” 

“I suppose you’ve had him sent to the arena,” Loki said. He sighed regretfully, heart pounding. “It’s a pity, really.” 

The Grandmaster’s eyebrows rose. “Are you saying _you_ wanted a piece of that, Lo?”

Nausea and rage surged up Loki’s throat and he swallowed them back down. He made himself shrug. “I can’t say I _didn’t_ like the looks of him.” 

“We-ell,” the Grandmaster said, expression giving way to amusement. “So - so what are you getting at, here, sweetheart?” 

Disgust squeezed Loki’s intestines as he said, “I don’t suppose you’d give him to me, would you? Just for a bit of fun.”

“Oh,” the Grandmaster said, and there was something delighted in his gaze that made Loki want to shudder. “Well. You know I couldn’t _possibly_ say no to you, Lo-Lo.” He turned toward Loki, running a finger lightly over his jaw, thumb brushing across the collar around his throat. “All right. You can have him.”

Loki tried not to go visibly limp with relief. Summoned a smile. 

“Thank you ever so much, Grandmaster,” he murmured, infusing his voice with coy promise. The Grandmaster’s ever-present smile widened.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Of course, now you owe me. And I’m definitely...definitely taking advantage of that, if you catch my drift.” 

Loki’s smile felt a little sickly. He hoped it didn’t look it. “As always, it’s my pleasure to serve.” 

“I’m sure it is,” the Grandmaster said. “I’m sure...you know what? Why don’t we just...settle in and you can show me how much of a, uh, _pleasure_ it is. Hm?” 

Loki’s stomach twisted. Steve was here. That changed...that changed things. When he found out what Loki had been doing - the filthy, depraved depths he’d so quickly sunk to--

But he couldn’t refuse. The Grandmaster’s planet. The Grandmaster’s rules. “Sounds marvelous,” he said. The Grandmaster tilted his head back to plant a lazy kiss on Loki’s mouth, hooking his fingers into the ring on Loki’s collar. 

“That’s my _good_ boy,” he purred, and Loki shuddered, hating himself for how good it felt to hear that. 

Steve was here, when Loki had given him up for dead. And Loki had let himself become... _this._ A pet. A plaything. 

It didn’t matter, he told himself. It didn’t matter, so long as he kept Steve alive. 

It didn’t matter. 

He kept telling himself that, while the Grandmaster fucked his mouth, fingers tangled in Loki’s hair as he carried on talking to someone else. Kept telling himself as he tried not to imagine Steve watching him do this. Kept telling himself as his throat convulsed around the Grandmaster’s cock and only a day ago he hadn’t cared about any of this. 

He still shouldn’t care. All that mattered was keeping Steve safe, and alive. He was already...ruined. He wouldn’t let Steve be the same.

* * *

Steve wasn’t in his rooms when he got back, which was almost a relief. It gave him time to shower, to change, to compose himself. To rinse out his mouth with sharp, minty, astringent. 

To feel the reality of what he’d done begin to sink in. 

He’d given up on Steve, and had thrown himself away. He’d drowned himself in poison and pleasure, rotting what was left of his soul, wallowing in filth. 

Steve was alive. And Loki was what he had made of himself. A wretched and despicable shell.

He bit his thumb hard and shook himself. _Focus on the objective. Keeping Steve alive. Keeping him whole._

_It’s good, isn’t it? It’s not like you have any pride or dignity left to lose. You’ve already given up everything._

Someone knocked on the door and he turned, striding over and opening it, masking his face. It was Steve, with two guards. He’d been washed, dressed in revealing clothes, and Loki recognized the glazed, hazy look in his eyes. Drugged into docility. 

Still, his eyes widened when he saw Loki.

“Go,” Loki said to the guards, and pulled Steve inside, closing the door before he could speak. 

“Loki?” Steve said, his voice wobbling. “I don’t understand-”

Loki heard himself make a faint sound and dragged Steve into his embrace even as his mind screamed _filth, how dare you touch him, you stained and ruined thing._ “It’s me,” he said. “I’m here, you’re - you’re _alive,_ I thought you were dead, where…”

“It’s you,” Steve said, his voice blurry. The drug. Loki pulled back and pressed his hand to his cheek and burned it away. Steve shuddered, his eyes clarifying. 

“Oh, thank god,” he said, with an exhale like a sob, and lurched forward to pull Loki back against him. Loki closed his eyes, basking shamefully in the warmth, the _comfort._

“What happened?” Loki asked, not moving away.

“I fell,” Steve said. “I woke up here. Alone. I thought you - how did you survive? Where’s Sif? Is Thor…what am I _wearing?_ ”

Loki hardly even had to consider it. _He doesn’t have to know. He can’t know._

“I fell here,” he said. “A...while ago.” He realized that he wasn’t sure how long it had actually been. “Sif, I don’t know. Or Thor. The spell...was anchored to him, and it broke.” He looked away, because it hurt, speaking this. “There are...a few reasons that might happen, but most likely…”

_Most likely he’s dead._ He couldn’t make himself say the words. Steve’s arms tightened around him. 

“This place,” he said, voice rough. “What is this place? Why here?” 

“It’s a planet of lost things,” Loki said. _The shithole of the universe._

Steve pulled back, and his expression spasmed a little. “I heard the pitch. ‘The Grandmaster.’” He looked Loki over. “Are you...you’ve been here a while? But it was just…”

“Time is strange here,” Loki said. He summoned up a smile he hoped looked real. “I’ve been lucky. Managing to play the Grandmaster’s games. I didn’t…” His voice roughened. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry-”

“No,” Steve interrupted. “No, I’m just - glad you’re here. When we were separated…” He trailed off, and cleared his throat. “If we both landed here, maybe Sif will, too. Or has.”

_Maybe she did, and died out on the trash heaps while I was whoring myself out to a monster._ Loki swallowed hard. “I’ll...we’ll try to find her. But in the meantime…” He bit the inside of his cheek. “This place isn’t safe.”

“I’d gathered that,” Steve said, a little dryly. Loki gripped his shoulders and met his eyes. 

“This isn’t Midgard,” he said. “Or Asgard. The people here - they’re vicious. They hate each other, scrambling for position, and they’ll kill each other to get it. And the Grandmaster is at the top, everyone chasing his favor.” Loki took a deep breath. “You need to stay away from him. I know how to handle him - his kind.”

Steve’s expression turned stubborn. “If it’s as dangerous as you’re saying, you need someone to watch your back.” 

“I need you to be safe,” Loki said. He could hear the desperation in his own voice. “I know what I’m doing, Steve. You...I can keep him busy. Someone needs to look for Sif.” He took a deep breath. “Please. Trust me. I’ve been here for - weeks.” Weeks. Months. It didn’t matter. 

He just needed to keep Steve out of the Grandmaster’s line of sight. Keep him distracted. 

Steve wavered. “I don’t like leaving you on your own.”

“You aren’t,” Loki said. Somehow, he found a smile, though it felt tremulous and weak. “You’re here. That’s more than I had yesterday.”

Steve stepped in close and almost slumped into him. “You said there could be other reasons,” he murmured. “Maybe Thor’s still... Maybe something went wrong with the Bifrost. Or something else happened to the spell.” 

“Maybe,” Loki said, but he wasn’t going to hope. 

Only maybe he should. He’d given up on Steve too quickly. Maybe he’d given up on Thor too quickly as well. So _eager_ to throw himself into the pit. 

Loki felt sick at himself. But he held Steve, because whatever he deserved, Steve deserved this. 

* * *

He told Steve the Grandmaster had requested a private meeting. _Look for Sif,_ he said. _See if you can check the barracks for the arena; if she’s here, I’d expect her to be there._

The Grandmaster _had_ requested a private meeting, though there wasn’t a great deal of discussion involved. The ball-gag saw to that. 

After he was finished, Loki was still quivering with the aftershocks of the electric wand he’d used with miserable efficacy. The Grandmaster tossed the ball-gag aside and propped himself up on his elbow. “So,” he said. “How are you liking your new toy?” 

Loki bit his tongue to forestall the anger that flared up, _he’s not, don’t talk about him like that._ “Delightful,” he said, rolling the word lazily over his tongue. “You were too kind to give him to me.” 

“Well,” the Grandmaster said. “More like lend. He’s still _mine,_ ultimately. Like you.” He flicked Loki’s nose lightly. “Everything here is. It’s great.” 

Loki’s stomach clenched. “Oh?” He said, a little breathless. “I didn’t realize that you…”

The Grandmaster raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t realize what, sweet thing?” 

“That he was only a loan,” Loki said. The Grandmaster blinked, and Loki hastened on. “Of course I understand that...ultimately, you’re right. Sakaar is yours. I…” He forced the words out. “Am yours. But I...well. Humans - Terrans are a bit fragile.”

“You think I can’t be gentle?” The Grandmaster said, smiling. Loki managed to smile back.

“Of course you can,” he said, reaching out to brush his fingers across the Grandmaster’s hip. “I have some...experience, with that, of course. But _I_ might not be. Or don’t always want to be.” His stomach twisted. Knotted. He pushed through it. 

“Ah,” the Grandmaster said. “You think you might, hm. Damage him, is that it?” 

“It’s possible,” Loki said, trying to sound casual. Indifferent.

“That’d - that’d be really too bad,” the Grandmaster said. He took Loki’s hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing his fingers, then licking them, slow, long, strokes of his tongue. Loki shivered, his skin prickling. 

“I thought…”

“Yes, yes,” the Grandmaster said. “I see what you’re saying.” There was a glimmer in his eyes for a moment that made a chill run down Loki’s spine, but then it was gone. “ _You,_ though...you’re not fragile at all, are you?” He wound a hand in Loki’s hair. “I’m thinking I want to see you on your knees right now. And let’s try a _different_ gag, shall we? The one with the ring. How does that sound?” 

_For Steve,_ Loki reminded himself, wishing he could still find that numbness, that carelessness. _For Steve._

* * *

It took some effort to walk normally back to his quarters. Steve was there, and almost jumped to his feet, looking Loki over like he expected to see marks.

“What did he want?” Steve asked. He sounded anxious, tense. 

“Nothing,” Loki said with a little shake of his head. “He just likes having people at his beck and call. We ate lunch. Made small talk. He dismissed me.” 

Steve frowned. “You were gone for a while. 

Loki smiled crookedly. “He drags it out.” 

Steve’s jaw clenched, then relaxed. “I didn’t find Sif,” he said. “I did find - they’re _slaves,_ down there. Fighting to the death.” That was right, Loki thought dully. Steve didn’t know that yet. Hadn’t seen it. “For - for what, people’s entertainment?”

“I know,” Loki said. “It’s...barbaric.” 

“We have to do something,” Steve said. 

_Like what?_ Loki wanted to ask. _What can we do? What can I do? I can barely hold this together as is, barely keep you away from him, how do you expect me to save a planet full of slaves?_

He just said, “I know.” Steve inhaled slowly and let it out. 

“How can you do this,” he said. “How have you _been_ doing this?” 

_I hollowed myself out. I made myself nothing. I drowned myself until I couldn’t see the surface._ “I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose I just...did.” 

* * *

He was living two lives. 

One, with Steve, where he was just playing a political game, protecting Steve from as much of the reality of Sakaar as he could. Keeping him looking for Sif, even though he was nearly certain she wouldn’t be found. Setting him on looking for an escape route, though he knew their best hope was the Grandmaster’s ships. 

The other with the Grandmaster and his coterie. On his knees (and his back, and standing, and upside down), steering the Grandmaster away from Steve every time he came near the subject (sucking his fingers into his mouth, straddling his lap and grinding against him, flaunting himself in every way he knew how). He couldn’t quite call it a seduction. A sacrifice, maybe, carving pieces off his body to throw to the slavering wolf. To keep him satisfied. 

He could feel Steve watching him. His careful, probing, questions. But if he had suspicions, they were only suspicions, and Loki was careful. And was careful, too, not to touch Steve in anything but the most chaste of ways. Even when he came back with an aphrodisiac still raging in his blood and all he wanted to do was pin Steve against the wall and ravish him until he came apart--

He retreated into the bathroom instead, etching notches in his inner thigh until the urge passed.

Loki teetered on the boundary between the two, stretched between. All he had to do was keep this going long enough to find the way off this planet, to get the codes for the ships and get out. Then, he thought, he would drink acid in the hopes it would scour his body clean. 

And Steve would never know. Would never have to know. 

He just needed to keep his balance, threading his way along a painfully narrow path.

* * *

“I wonder,” the Grandmaster said, chin on his hand as he watched Loki pour himself a glass of something blue and bubbly, “if you couldn’t help me with a little, uh, problem I’m having.” 

A warning prickled at the back of Loki’s mind that he pushed ruthlessly down. “Oh?” His thoughts drifted to Steve, wondering if he was still sleeping, and he yanked them away. 

“Hmm-mm. Just a little dilemma I’ve been trying to sort through. Say that - say that someone I really _like_ was doing something a little, uh...distressing. Upsetting.”

The warning prickle grew stronger. “That would certainly be unfortunate,” Loki said. The Grandmaster hummed.

“See,” he said, “the thing is...the thing is, that’s _you._ ”

Loki wasn’t stupid. He’d had a feeling. Still, his heart sank. “I hadn’t realized,” he said. “Whatever I’ve done - please allow me to make it up to you.” 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” the Grandmaster said. “That’s what I love about you, Lo-lo, you’re always so...accommodating. Which is why I’m hoping we can sort this, ah, _hitch_ out without any trouble.” 

“What is the...hitch?” Loki asked, trying to keep his voice easy despite the building anxiety. He set down the glass untouched, turning to fully face the Grandmaster.

“It’s...just a little thing, really,” the Grandmaster said. “I don’t - I don’t _love_ being told something’s _off limits._ ”

Faint dread crept into Loki’s chest, coiling through his lungs. “I...know that.” 

“And I’ve - haven’t I been good to you, Loki? Haven’t I made sure you have _everything_ you want? And then you - you go and ask me for a pretty morsel and you won’t _share._ You make these, these _excuses_ and I just...I don’t know what to think.”

Loki’s breath caught. “If I don’t satisfy you,” he began, voice a little breathless, but the Grandmaster laid a finger against his lips.

“Oh, no! No, you do, sweetheart, you do. Just...well. I don’t like to see anyone getting _possessive,_ and, um. I’ve been getting the sense that you’re _withdrawing,_ too. Forgetting...uh, forgetting who...takes care of you, you know?” 

Loki tried not to let his breathing quicken. “I could never forget.” 

“Oh, good,” the Grandmaster said. “That’s going to make this much easier. See, here’s...a little choice. Either... _either_ you can, um, have a little bit of fun with your new toy. For an audience. Who’ll be, ah...participating. Or I borrow him for a night, just the two of us, take him for a spin.” Loki tried to keep his expression blank even as his heart started racing. “Of course, that might be...well, like you said, Terrans are _fragile._ ”

_No,_ Loki thought. _Oh, no._

“Or,” the Grandmaster said, “you let me and a couple of, hm, _friends_ fuck you senseless for _his_ edification.”

Loki rocked, slightly. His exhale came out unsteady. There was only one option that would get Steve out intact. 

It was hardly even a choice. Steve might hate him for it. But he’d do what he had to. 

“Do I ever say no to you fucking me senseless, Grandmaster?” Loki said, arching his eyebrows. 

“You haven’t yet,” the Grandmaster said. “And you know, I - I was kind of hoping you’d say that. Because that’s the one _I_ want most. And we’re actually...well.” 

He snapped his fingers and a curtain Loki hadn’t noticed dropped away. Behind it was a clear pane into another room that must be - _just_ for this. 

His eyes met Steve’s. Steve’s, wide and horrified and pleading and _had he been listening-_

A distant screaming started in Loki’s head. Something in him shut down. 

“You came prepared,” Loki said, forcing himself to look away from Steve. He _couldn’t_ look at Steve. Not without breaking. 

The Grandmaster shrugged, unabashed. “I know what I like, sweet thing,” he said. “And I figured you’d agree. You’re just _fantastic_ like that.” 

A shudder ran down Loki’s spine as the Grandmaster drew him around and kissed him, tongue sliding into Loki’s mouth. Perversely gentle, intimate, and Loki felt himself winding tight the longer it went on, the Grandmaster’s hands stroking his waist, sliding up his spine. 

“So wound _up,_ ” the Grandmaster murmured, moving his mouth from Loki’s lips to his jaw. “We’ll...we’ll see about fixing that, won’t we?” His thigh pressed forward against Loki’s crotch, grinding against him, and Loki’s hips jerked forward with a slight inhale. 

He wondered what Steve was seeing. Loki kissing the Grandmaster. Grinding wantonly against his leg. 

_Don’t think of Steve. You’ll break. And you can’t break yet._

He was responding to the stimulation, his cock hardening under the pressure, the friction. The Grandmaster threaded his fingers into Loki’s hair and pulled his head back to nibble at his throat. Loki heard himself gasp and the Grandmaster chuckled. 

“He likes that,” he murmured, voice silky, and Loki bit the inside of his cheek so he didn’t make a sound. The Grandmaster slid his hands down Loki’s back again to his ass, squeezing. “Let’s get those clothes off, hmm, sweetheart?” The Grandmaster said. “You won’t be needing them for a while.” He paused. “You should really open your eyes. Don’t you want to know how your boy is looking at you?” 

Loki didn’t. He never wanted to look Steve in the eye again. He shook his head. 

“That’s too bad,” the Grandmaster said. “It really is something.”

_Steve,_ Loki thought miserably, and immediately tried to wall it away. _Pretend he isn’t here. Pretend this is just...like any other time._

“He doesn’t know how lucky he is,” the Grandmaster murmured. “Getting to watch you like this. It’s...it’s a _real_ treat, let me tell you. How _good_ you look when someone is fucking you. I’m almost jealous.” He paused. “Almost. But not quite.

“Now. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” 

* * *

There were six of them. And the Grandmaster. Loki didn’t try to see if he could remember names, or faces. 

The Grandmaster worked Loki open standing, the angle hopelessly awkward, and he was barely stretched enough when the first one of them bent him over and thrust in. It was fast and brutal and over quickly, and Loki harbored some slim hope that maybe the rest would be the same. 

He should have known better. 

The Grandmaster circled for a few rounds (mouth, hands, mouth again, his cock sheathed inside someone whose face he refused to look at too closely) before closing in. Loki was on his knees by then, panting in a momentary lull, the taste of any number of secretions thick on his tongue. The Grandmaster wound his fingers into Loki’s hair and pulled his head back. 

“You really do look just _amazing_ like this,” he said. “And you’re going to look even better using that _gorgeous_ mouth for what it’s made for.” His other hand moved to caress Loki’s jaw and then he moved back, pulling Loki with him as he sat down. “Open up, sweetheart.” 

He shuddered, and opened his mouth, letting the Grandmaster slide in over his tongue. His fingers, still in Loki’s hair, dragged across his scalp. 

“You should see the look on your boy’s face,” he said, low and conversationally. “I don’t think - I don’t think he’s enjoying this as much as _we_ are.” 

Loki heard himself make a thin sound and tried to close his ears. _Don’t think, don’t think._

“Hmm-mm,” the Grandmaster said. “That’s all right. He’ll get over it. Settle back, enjoy the show, I don’t know how anyone _wouldn’t._ ” 

He thrust into Loki’s mouth, cockhead pressing against the back of his throat. Loki choked, gagged, grabbing at the Grandmaster’s thighs. “Hey, hey now,” the Grandmaster said. “Re _lax,_ sweetheart, you’ve got this-”

Someone’s fingers - fingers? something - pushed into his ass, and Loki gasped; the Grandmaster said “that’s _it_ ,” and drove into his open throat. He spasmed, body bucking, but that only rocked his hips into the fingers spreading him open. And then it wasn’t fingers, was something else, quite a bit thicker and he could feel the prominent ridges dragging against his insides. His cry of near pain was muffled in the Grandmaster’s cock, even as another part of his body _sang_ for the hard use. Every driving thrust behind him shoved him forward onto the Grandmaster’s cock; every push into his throat forced him back onto the cock rubbing him raw, and Loki’s cock was heavy and hard between his legs. 

“Okay, sweetheart, now let’s see that gorgeous, uh, other shape of yours, the one you’re so shy about,” the Grandmaster said. Loki’s face burned and he squeezed his eyes closed, changing forms. Shedding his Aesir skin.

The room felt unbearably hot. The Grandmaster’s hand on the back of his neck almost burned, and he heard himself whine, the sound muffled with his mouth full. His body clenched differently around the ridged cock in his ass, like this, and his skin was even more acutely sensitive. The Grandmaster’s fingers traced the ridged markings on his shoulders and Loki quivered, _moaned,_ a terrible pleasure washing through him. 

(He remembered how Steve had touched him in this body, when he’d been flying apart from self-disgust. How gently. How tenderly.

Loki had never let Steve fuck him like this.)

_Stop it stop it stop it,_ he thought wildly, and forced his head down. His throat spasmed, struggling to accommodate the Grandmaster’s cock, stuffed full at both ends. His head was already spinning and this, he knew, was only the start. 

The Grandmaster had promised to _fuck him senseless._ With him, that wasn’t just a turn of phrase. 

_Steve,_ he thought, and shoved him out of his head as hard as he could. Steve didn’t belong here. Loki wouldn’t let him be here, not in this. He boxed every thought and feeling up and shoved it to the back of his mind.

He was just a body. Nothing more. 

And if he was just a body, it didn’t matter that he was responding to the Grandmaster’s fingers caressing his neck, the cock in his ass, the murmured _that’s a good boy, lovely, just like that, you look gorgeous like this, doesn’t he? Don’t you think, Steve, don’t you just love looking at him when he’s doing this-_

Loki hoped Steve couldn’t hear him. He suspected he must be able to.

Just. Just a body.

* * *

Loki wasn’t sure how many times they used him. He knew he was filthy, covered in sweat and come and other, less familiar, fluids; he remembered something like a mouth enveloping his cock, a long, thin, tongue slipping inside, working him outside and inside at the same time until he was almost sobbing, overwhelmed. 

He remembered saying _I can’t,_ and the Grandmaster’s _are you sure,_ sliding a pill into his mouth that dissolved on his tongue and sent his arousal skyrocketing until he thought he was going to burn up with it. His nerves, frayed down until he couldn’t tell the difference between pleasure and pain, and he swallowed both like everything else until he was choking on it. 

And kept going, slamming past every limit he thought he had, every time thinking _this is it, I can’t take any more_ only to somehow take more. 

He hardly realized when it was over, barely conscious. His tongue felt thick and heavy, his lips bruised. There was come streaked down his thighs, leaking from between his legs, sloshing in his stomach. He was wrecked, like a ship battered by solar winds.

“Nicely done,” the Grandmaster purred. “Hmm-mm. You did good, sweetheart.” Loki shivered with awful pleasure, hating that he could still...feel that. “You, ah, held up...much better than I was expecting. I gotta jet, though, so...see you tomorrow!” He kissed Loki’s mouth hard enough to hurt and left Loki where he was.

He didn’t think he could move. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. 

Everything he’d been keeping at a distance emerged slowly from the fog. _Steve,_ he thought. _He’s all right. That’s what matters. He’s…_

_He’s not. Not after having to watch that. He’ll hate himself for not stopping it._

_(He’ll hate you for not fighting back.)_

It took Loki a while to realize that he was weeping. _It worked,_ he told himself viciously. _He did what you wanted him to do. This is a victory._

Like so many of his victories, it didn’t feel like one.

* * *

Eventually, someone came. He didn’t look them in the eye as they bundled him into a shower and told him to wash. Loki did, mechanically, though his skin felt raw and too sensitive to touch, all of him one exposed nerve. 

He limped back to his room alone. Steve was there when he opened the door, sitting on the floor with an expression on his face of raw devastation. Loki fell still, staring at him. 

_You did this._

He didn’t say anything, but Steve must have heard the door open, because he looked up. And then straightened, his eyes widening. “Loki,” he said, voice hoarse like he’d been screaming. 

He swayed, and caught himself on the door. _I’m sorry,_ he wanted to say, but couldn’t make the words come out.

“God,” Steve said, standing. “Loki,” and stopped, getting to his feet and taking a step toward him, then freezing. Holding his distance, because now he knew just how _filthy_ Loki was. 

“I need to wash,” he said, even though he just had. It didn’t matter. He didn’t _feel_ clean. Maybe he never would. 

“Okay,” Steve said, after a moment’s hesitation. “That...okay.” He swallowed. “Are you...can I do anything?” 

Loki blinked at him dazedly. “Do anything?” 

Steve let out a shuddering exhale. “You just - you were just-” He squeezed his eyes closed and opened them, and murmured, though Loki thought it was to himself, “I’m going to be sick.” 

“Steve,” Loki said, and closed his eyes and managed, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re-” Steve cut off, and suddenly closed the distance between them, reaching out to touch Loki’s arms, at least until he flinched back. Involuntarily, and the flash of pain in Steve’s eyes made him wish he hadn’t. “Why are _you_ sorry?”

“That I - that I let him-” His voice caught. “You shouldn’t touch me. I’m not - I threw everything away, I gave up and gave _in_ -”

“I heard the - the _deal_ he offered you!” Steve’s voice broke. “I know you were trying to...to protect me.” There was something awful in his voice, miserable guilt and horror. Steve shouldn’t sound like that. Not on his behalf.

Loki squeezed his eyes more tightly closed. “This wasn’t the first time,” he made himself say. “He’s fucked me before. Others, too. And I let them. I let them do whatever they wanted to me-”

Steve lurched back. Loki saw the horror in his eyes for a moment before he bolted for the bathroom. 

Loki sank down to the floor. He felt sick at himself. 

When Steve emerged, there was a determined set to his mouth, even as there was an ache in his eyes. “I don’t care,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t care what...what happened. If what I saw-” He went a little pale, but pressed onward. “If what I saw was any indication - what kind of choice did you have? I’m not betting that - _he_ doesn’t seem big on the idea of consent. If you’d tried to say no…”

Steve was right. But he hadn’t even tried. Hadn’t wanted to try, because the way it made him feel seemed...right. “I didn’t try.” 

“To save your life,” Steve said. He sounded desperate, like he was clutching at straws. Dimly, Loki thought _you always knew you would be the thing to break him._ “Why are you trying to excuse what they - what _he_ did to you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki said numbly. “It just matters that you’re alive. That you’re...all right.” For now. How long would that last?

“I just had to watch my partner be _raped_ for - God, I don’t _know_ how long, and you think I’m _all right?_ ” 

“No,” Loki said after a moment. “I don’t...think that. But at least it wasn’t you.” 

“And it’s better that it was _you?_ ”

_Yes._ Loki knew better than to say that, but Steve apparently heard it because he turned away with a cry of anguished frustration. Loki didn’t move. 

“Why,” Steve said, his voice trembling. “Why is that better? Why is it _just fine_ for you, why can you just - excuse _your_ rape when if it were me--”

“You’d do the same thing,” Loki said dully. Steve sucked in a breath. 

“I wouldn’t be trying to act like - like it doesn’t _matter_ that you let - no, that you were _forced_ to let that - that _bastard_ rape you!” Loki wanted to flinch. _Stop saying that,_ he thought. _Stop saying it like that. Stop using - that word._

Steve rocked forward and then back. “Tell me - tell me it’s not because you think you somehow _deserved_ it.”

_I did. I did deserve it. That’s clear now, isn’t it, by how quickly I fell?_ Loki looked away. 

“You didn’t,” Steve said. “You _didn’t._ Why in hell would you…?” He went quiet for a moment. “Is this. Is this because of me?” 

Loki dropped his head forward against his drawn up knees. 

“We’re going to find a way out of this,” Steve said. He sounded like he was about to cry, his voice cracking before he steadied it.

“We have to,” Loki said. But he didn’t know how to say _I think something’s broken in me, now._

_After everything, maybe this is what’s too much._ He knew the truth of what he was, now. Worse, Steve knew, too.

_Will I ever be able to feel your touch without the shadow of his?_

Loki heard Steve make a faint sound, like he was trying to swallow a sob. He lifted his head slowly. Steve wasn’t look at him, but what Loki could see of his profile made him think that he wasn’t the only one this had broken. 

_It’ll be all right,_ he wanted to say, but even he wasn’t that good a liar.


End file.
